Royal Swinery, Kingdom of Castile
The Fallen Lord, still in the body of a swine, lay weakly in the darkest part of the pig pen where the swine are housed. Mud caked his body, forming a thick layer, that clung to his skin. The incessant buzzing mosquitos filled the air, their bites tormented him, but he paid them no mind. He was still weak with no humans to prey on, and the holy presence outside his enclosure was still prevalent, sapping his energy.
Even at night, he cannot find the energy to go outside. He had to sustain his energy by feeding on the heart, liver, and blood of the swine. The clueless humans thought a wolf was sneaking in at night, devouring the livestock. "Idiots!" he thought bitterly. They had no idea that the true predator was lurking in their midst.
He felt that his kind and legion perished under the shower of the golden light. Desperation gnawed at him. He hoped the One-Eyed Society would send someone to rescue him. If they missed their chance, he would be sent back to Hell and it would again take centuries before the thinning of the veil under the red moon, allowing him another opportunity to rise from Hell.
A portly woman entered the enclosure, her eyes scanning the dimly lit pen until they settled on him nestled in the farthest and darkest corner. "What happened to you? Are you perhaps sick? I think I'll call the royal butcher and have you buried or burned. We don't want any outbreak to occur again." The woman said while checking the body of the pig he was inhabiting.
As much as he'd like to possess her, she is wearing a ward, a glowing medallion that made him scuttle away from the woman. "Strange," she said, "You don't have any wounds on you, but you smell of blood." she continued, her words hanging in the air, as she left the pen to call the royal butcher, leaving him with his thoughts.
His heart palpitated as the woman returned, this time, with a burly man in tow. Blood stained his aprons and brown linen cloth. He could smell the pungent body odor of the man as they were approaching him. A deliciously, pungent aroma was with the man. He smiled, despite his weakness. Although weak, the man's soul was tainted, making him a suitable vessel.
The butcher is going to be his ticket out of this swine's body. He was lucky that the man was not affected by the purification, thus, he could be protected within the man's body. He could hear the portly woman's chatter as they neared, "This swine is strange," she told the butcher.
"He is covered in blood, but no visible wounds, he also lay weakly, I do not see him go out when I feed, the night watch does not see him go out of his pen." she went on.
The butcher examined the swine he was in with a critical eye "Hmm.. It seems like this one still carries the taint that affected the humans and animals at the beginning of the spring. To make sure that he won't spread the disease again, I'll have someone bring him out and burn his corpse." he replied.
"Understood, when can we expect his discharge from the swinery?" The woman asked.
"I'll have someone take him out tonight. No use alarming the people." The butcher said. "I'll go back now, the Queen requested some chicken soup to be sent to the Priest's Residence. I trust that you'll take care of everything here."
"Of course! This is what we should do." the woman assured the butcher.
The Fallen Lord, seeing that his target is getting away, let out a desperate sound. The two departing figures went back to check what was going on with the listless swine. As they neared, he lunged and bit the butcher, till he tasted his blood. The butcher cried out, a mixture of alarm and agony.
Feeling the pain from the bite, the butcher took a short knife from his waist and stabbed the swine repeatedly. Despite the pain, the animal possessed by the Fallen Lord was still at it, as if he felt no pain. He latched onto the butcher, until the woman, in a panic, stabbed the animal with a broken stick in its eye. The sharp stick lodged into the pig's brain, ending its life.
The butcher crawled away from the pig, clutching his bleeding hand. He was breathless and bloody, as was the woman who helped him. He felt a sharp, burning pain in his chest. He could not breathe as he felt the muscle spasm and contract.
The woman, who found the butcher twitching in the mud panicked and let out a piercing scream for help. Her voice, echoed in the stillness of the morning, sending shivers down the spines of those who heard it. The soldiers and palace workers, alerted by her desperate cry, rushed in to see what happened.
The sight that greeted them was horrifying. The butler lay twitching and bleeding on the muddied floor of the pig pen, his body convulsing uncontrollably. The portly woman, her clothes and hands smeared with blood, stood nearby, her face pale and sweaty, her hair in disarray, and eyes wide in shock.
The soldiers immediately investigated what happened and found the animal bite on the butcher's arm, bite was now turning an ominous black. Without hesitation, they immediately sent him to the Royal Hospital to be treated.
The woman was inconsolable and shaking. The trauma was just catching up to her. Tears streamed down her face, and she could barely speak. Recognizing her distress, the soldiers and palace workers also escorted her to the Royal hospital as well.
Meanwhile, there was an internal battle going on inside the butcher. His soul was slowly being devoured by the Fallen Lord and his soldiers. The struggle was fierce, but the Fallen Lord's malevolent power overwhelmed the butcher's soul. When the Fallen Lord completely took over the butcher's body, he stopped twitching and lay limply.
The men carrying him thought he had died. They let out a sigh of relief when they saw that his chest was still heaving. The sight of his shallow breathing was a small comfort amidst the chaos.
Although he has a body now, the Fallen Lord is still weak. He still felt the stinging sensation when he was exposed to the air tinged with holy power. Luckily, the presence of holiness in the air is becoming bearable, a sign that his strength is returning. For now, he can only lay limply and be carried towards the Royal Hospital, the possession, taking out a lot of his strength.
As they reached the hospital, the staff quickly directed the soldiers and palace workers to the treatment room, where one of the Royal Physicians was already waiting. The Fallen Lord, hidden inside the butcher's body, knew that he had to bide his time before continuing his mission. For now, he has to play the part of an injured man, allowing the humans to nurture him back to health.
He could smell the sickness in the infirmary, the patient's fear of death, fueling the darkness inside him. If he is lucky, he can munch on one of the injured or sickly in the dead of the night.
On one hand, the portly woman, still in shock was given a sedative to calm her nerves. She lay in a nearby room, her mind replaying the horrific events over and over. The staff flitted in and out of the treatment rooms, eager to treat the injured and the shock victim.
The hospital staff, oblivious to the dark presence among them, continued their work, tending to the patients and going about their daily routines, unaware of the true danger that lurked within their walls. The Fallen Lord watched and waited, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light. He knew that soon, very soon, he would be ready to strike. And when he did, the world would tremble before him.